


Pale Blue Petals

by quaere



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hanahaki - Freeform, Hanahaki Disease, Implied Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Implied Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love, descriptions of throwing up flowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-19 17:18:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15514710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quaere/pseuds/quaere
Summary: Logically, Kenma knew that throwing up flowers was not a good thing. That mostly this was a really bad thing - a death sentence. Kenma scowled at the toilet bowl and flushed down the flowers quickly. The delicate blue petals swirling down and disappearing. Forget-me-nots. Of course there were fucking forget-me-nots. At least the petals were small. At least there were no thorns. Kenma didn’t envy the poor souls that coughed up roses. Thank whoever for small mercies.





	1. Of course there were forget-me-nots

Logically, Kenma knew that throwing up flowers was not a good thing. That mostly this was a really bad thing - a death sentence. Kenma scowled at the toilet bowl and flushed down the flowers quickly. The delicate blue petals swirling down and disappearing. Forget-me-nots. _Of course there were fucking forget-me-nots._ At least the petals were small. At least there were no thorns. Kenma didn’t envy the poor souls that coughed up roses. Thank whoever for small mercies. 

Hanahaki was not uncommon. Nowadays it was considered a common endemic disease. Kenma had hoped he could avoid catching it since he was aloof and awkward and he didn’t like that many people. There weren’t even that many people he would even consider to fall in love with. And judging by his current state, there was only one person who was at the top of his list of candidates. Just Kenma’s luck that he was the most unattainable person. The possibility of Kuroo Tetsurou returning his feelings was slim to none. He supposed dying was fine. 

Kenma brushed his teeth quickly, grabbed his jersey jacket and rushed out the door, giving his father a quick wave as he passed him by the kitchen on the way out. His father shouted a quick goodbye as Kenma shut the door with a click. He already had a feeling that this was going to be a bad day. 

Kuroo usually waited for him by the gates to Kenma’s house. And just like clockwork - Kuroo stood waiting for him when Kenma came out the door. He felt a flutter in his chest at the sight of his friend. _This was ridiculous._ Kuroo was wearing his jersey too as they had practice to get to that morning. His hair was as messy as always and he was checking the time on his phone when Kenma opened the gate. 

“Good morning.”

“Kenma! Good morning!”

They fell into their usual pace on the way towards the train. To avoid attention or having to speak to his taller friend - Kenma buried himself in his new PSP game. It was easier to avoid suspicion that way. Kuroo seemed fine to be walking in silence. Only steering Kenma away from obstacles as they walked. It was the normal routine. But the shorter of the two felt his heart pounding, he was pretty sure had been staring at the game over screen for the past two minutes as his childhood friend wrapped an arm around him and steered him out of the way of passing pedestrians. _This was normal. This was normal._ The two of them were always like this. Just because Kenma realized he was in love with his best friend - things wouldn’t change. He started the game again and sighed. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine, Kuroo.”

“Just tell me if you need anything, ok? Can’t have you catch a cold.”

“I’m not catching a cold.”

“You could be. You’ve had that terrible cough for weeks now.”

“I’m not catching a cold.”

Kuroo shrugged, but his eyebrows were still furrowed. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” It makes my chest hurt. I love you, Tetsurou. 

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure me out. It’s annoying.”

Kuroo laughed. “Like I’d ever figure you out, kitten.”

***

Kenma had no idea how he fell in love with Kuroo. But he knew it must have something to do with how Kuroo always seemed to know what he wanted to say. Kenma was not very good at socializing and sometimes he felt bad for Kuroo having to always accommodate him. But Kuroo always made him feel somewhat normal. He always saved a space next to him for Kenma if he wanted. He always made sure Kenma wasn’t alone, unless Kenma expressively told him that he wanted to be alone that is. And he always thought Kenma’s jokes were the funniest ones. 

Now, these days, Kenma wished Kuroo was not hovering around him constantly like he was revolving around him like a moon. Never able to get out of Kenma’s orbit. The flowers growing in his chest was a constant itch at the back of his throat. At least he was still able to consume food. The setter knew he should go get it checked, but going to the doctor was terrifying. Especially since there was only two options - removal or confessing and hoping for the best. 

Kenma didn’t like any of those options. _This is so stupid._ He thought, irritated, as he was bent over the toilet in the school bathroom; coughing up pale blue petals. He almost choked himself as he pulled out a stem from his throat - the leaves catching at the back of his throat. He felt his eyes sting with tears as he threw the mucus-covered green flower in the water. Gross. He really should have it removed. 

Except this was not an option in this situation. Hanahaki was common but the research on the disease’s origin was scarce. It appeared in the late 20’s and in the beginning no one knew what it was. The disease was a death-sentence. Especially during and after the Second World War. It didn’t kill as many as the war - but the widows left behind often caught the strange disease.

Early research only showed pictures of marigolds. Yellow and orange as the sun. The flower of pain and grief. The flower representing the pain of lost love. There was no treatment back then and it was only in the late 50s that surgical removal of the roots became standard. Kenma had seen pictures in one of the books in his father's office when he was 9. When he asked his father he had explained that the surgery helped remove the ailment but it also changed the patient. There would be no feelings left for the person that once held your heart. Some patients lost the memories of ever knowing the person. Kenma hadn’t dared to ask his father then - but he had seen the thin white scar on his chest. He had wondered who his father had removed his flowers for. He only realised much later that it was probably for his mother. 

There was no loss there, really. They were better off without her. He wondered if his father had marigolds growing in his chest like the widows in the 40s. He didn’t dare ask. 

When Kenma had finally spit out the final pale petals he flushed. He took a deep breath. This was only going to get worse. He should do more research. See if there was any way to live with it for at least longer than a couple of months. He could do with a year. When Kuroo left for university it would hurt less for him if he… Kenma shook his head. It was too early to think about his own death. 

He washed his face and rinsed his mouth before leaving the bathroom. The taste of chlorophyll didn’t disappear though and Kenma was not in the mood for lunch anymore. 

“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you! Where have you been?”

“Uh…” Kenma coughed weakly. 

“Are you ok? You look really pale.” Kuroo himself looked flushed, like he had been running. He pressed the back of his hand against Kenma’s forehead. Kenma felt a petal tickle the back of his throat and he suppressed another cough. Kemna felt suddenly terrified that Kuroo would be able to tell what he’s just done. That he spent half of his lunch coughing up flowers in the bathroom. Kuroo would demand to know who he spilled out all those flowers for. 

“Will you be ok to practice later?” Kuroo continued, satisfied that Kenma didn’t have a fever. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? I won’t blame you if you sit it out.”

Kenma was tempted to take the offer. But he wanted to keep up some kind of normalcy. If he was going to die because of the stupid flowers growing in his chest, he wanted his last months to be worth it.

“I’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower meanings
> 
> forget-me-nots: forget me not, true love  
> marigold: despair, grief
> 
> (probably more to come)
> 
> The flower meanings are taken from languageofflowers.com. There are probably other meanings to the same flowers out there, these are just the ones I used for my work. :)


	2. Of course the library has a whole section on this

Kenma was not fine. Practice was gruesome and he felt constantly out of breath. Every water break he had to rush to the bathroom and spill out petals. Emptying all he could. He was starting to really hate forget-me-nots. 

Kuroo was really his most attractive when he was doing something he loved. Kenma prefered him talking about chemistry with his face all flushed in excitement, hands gesticulating wildly to make his point to Kenma. The setter had never seen Kuroo look as beautiful as he did when he explained a complex formula or an experiment he wanted to try. 

His second favorite Kuroo was when he was in practice. His delight when he managed a particularly difficult receive. The pride glowing in his eyes when Kenma and Lev managed to pull off a successful spike. Kenma had received one of those looks today and his breath caught in his throat as he felt leaves brush his esophagus. 

This was torture. He was not going to last. 

Just when Kenma thought he really was going to throw up flowers and other plant-matter at the feet of his best friend, Kuroo called off practice for the day. Kenma sighed in relief and rushed to change as soon as the clean-up was done. If he hurried, maybe Kuroo wouldn’t notice if he slipped out earlier and walked home on his own. He couldn’t deal with any more Kuroo today. It was just too much. 

Turned out it was a lot more difficult to slip away from his best friend than he thought. 

“Kenma! Wait up!”

Kenma wanted to run. But there was nowhere to run. They were going the same way. His heart was pounding in his chest. This was so idiotic. Why did it have to be Kuroo? If it had been anyone else it would have been fine. He would’ve just had the operation right away. There wouldn’t be any doubt in his mind. 

But this was Kuroo. He just couldn’t cut Kuroo out of his heart forever. He’d always been there. Always would be. Kenma sighed and turned around. 

Kuroo was making his way over. He was smiling widely. His hair as messy as ever. He was absolutely beautiful. Kenma’s heart ached. He was perfect. Anyone that could have his best friend would be the luckiest bastard alive. 

Just why couldn’t it be Kenma who won his heart?

He was silent as Kuroo fell into step next to him. Kenma felt as if he even tried to speak, those treacherous petals would crawl out of his chest. Force themselves out and bare themselves to the world. Bare themselves to Kuroo. 

He couldn’t let that happen. 

So he remained silent as they walked home together. Kuroo told him about his plans for the weekend. Him and his mom was planning on going to visit his aunt's house. Kenma only hummed and nodded at the appropriate places.

His chest and lungs ached for his best friend. The growth in his chest was manageable for now. But whenever their hands brushed as they walked, Kenma had an urge to bend over the edge of the sidewalk and cough up those tiny blue flowers. 

They separated at Kenma’s gate. Kuroo lingered for a bit though. 

“Please rest today, ok?”

“Mm.”

“Promise me you will and that you’re not going to stay up all night playing video games.”

“Yeees mom.” Kenma groaned. 

“See you monday, ok?”

Kenma waved and Kuroo turned a corner and he was gone. 

***

It was not really that strange to Kenma that there were forget-me-nots. Of course there were. How could it be any other flower than that one? 

Kenma has decided to dedicate his weekend to research his disease a little further. There was apparently six stages. Kenma calculated how many weeks he’d had a cough and when he had started coughing up petals. He came to the conclusion that he was in stage two. Which was good. It wasn’t as bad. He still had a few weeks to decide what to do. Things didn’t get particularly dire until stage 4 anyway. And at least there was no blood. 

Kenma’s father had many books on the subject. But he decided that a trip to the library wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he’d find books on how to fight it. The one’s his father had were only containing history or had difficult medical terms in them. 

He needed more information. So that Saturday after lunch he got dressed and ventured out on his own. He usually didn’t go out on his own at all if he could avoid it. Especially not on the weekends. But the situation called for desperate measures. And it was not like he was going to ask someone to come with him anyway. 

The library was blissfully silent compared to the street outside. His light coughing broke the silence every now and then as he made his way between the shelves. The librarian threw him an annoyed look but didn’t comment. Kenma was thankful. 

There was a whole section on Hanahaki. Of course there was. Just because Kenma hadn’t bothered to even learn about it before, didn’t mean it was not reality for everyone else that carried flowers in their chests everyday. Just as he was about to pull down a book as thick as his forearm someone coughed behind him. He jumped and turned around.

“Don’t read that one. It’s outdated and has particularly gruesome pictures of late stages of Hanahaki.” The librarian was soft spoken and smiled kindly at him. “I suggest you take this one.”

The librarian held out a thin book with a lilac cover. An illustration of a lung filled with flowers covered the front. It looked less threatening than the brown leather cover of the first book. Kenma took it gratefully. 

“It’s a good summary of the disease. What stage are you in?”

“How did you….?”

“The coughing. And the fact that you went straight for this shelf.”

Kenma smiled awkwardly before answering. “Second.” 

“There’s still time then.”

Kenma shrugged. “I guess. I don’t plan on telling them.”

The librarian nodded. Kenma shifted awkwardly before the librarian spoke up again. 

“There’s a book on flower meanings that’s a really nice read too.”

Kenma nodded and the man handed him a smaller beat up book from one of the shelves. He gave the man a small grateful smile and then quickly decided to get out of there before it got more awkward. 

***

Kenma didn’t dare to open the books until the day after. He spent the Saturday evening on the couch watching movies with his dad. There was an itch at the back of his throat, but no coughing, which he was thankful for. 

Sundays always meant working in the office for Kenma’s dad. So Kenma knew he was going to spend the day on his own. All homework was already finished. So he curled up in the armchair in the corner of the living room and started reading. Not that it was much of a pleasant read, but at least it gave great tips on how to cope with the worse of the cough. What foods to avoid and what teas helps alleviate the pain and soreness of the throat. Kenma was not very fond of teas in general - but if it could help with his cough, he’d drink it. 

Only a lonely few forget-me-nots made it out of his throat. At this point, Kenma felt like drinking pesticide just to get rid of them. But there was no use. He felt even more hopeless about his condition when he has finished reading. The only way to get rid of the flowers was surgery or having his love requited. The chance of having it requited was less than 6%. How was he going to tell his dad? He felt panic surge through his chest. How was he supposed to tell his dad about this?! He couldn’t! His dad would be devastated. But he would be even more heartbroken if Kenma didn’t tell him. Kenma closed the book and decided it was better to wait for a bit. Just until he made up his mind about things. 

Right now he had to focus on trying to get people to **not** notice he had the disease. The first issue to tackle would be his dad. Luckily, his dad was very absent-minded. And with him having to run a company full time - Kenma was not always the first thing on his mind on a regular basis. Kenma didn’t mind that to be honest. The problem was Takuya. His father's personal assistant. Takuya had a sharp mind and didn’t miss things. He was the one to remind Kenma’s father to eat and sleep and to go to his meetings when he was caught up with brainstorming. Takuya was the glue that kept the tiny Kozume family together. The reason that mr. Kozume could take Saturdays off to hang out with his son. The reason Kozume Katsuo could even try to be a father properly. If Takuya was not in their lives - then things would have been very different. And the company would be less successful. 

Kenma needed a strategy. He would prefer to avoid Takuya completely, but he was at the Kozume apartment more often than not and he took care to check up on Kenma whenever he could. If the situation was different he would just go to stay with Kuroo and his mom - something he had done often as a child when he had wanted to get away from the house or when his father was away on businesstrips. Kuroo’s mother, Akemi, had taken Kenma in like he were her own son. And she always made his favorite food when he stayed over. Kenma’s heart ached at the thought of Akemi and Kuroo. Tetsurou. 

Kenma sighed. He would hate for Akemi to be sad about his demise. But losing all feelings for Kuroo would surely mean that it would be awkward to see Akemi. He felt like such a horrible person for even considering not telling anyone about this. 

Dwelling on the people in his life he would made devastated because of his death was not a very productive thought-experiment. So Kenma turned to making a mental list of the kind of teas he could buy to alleviate the pain in his chest and the itch in his throat. 

He made sure to hide the book he had borrowed before his dad came back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower meanings
> 
> forget-me-nots: forget me not, true love  
> marigold: despair, grief


	3. At least there were no roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hinata will make an appearence in this chapter finally, I was not lying when I put him in the tags. 
> 
> Hinata and Kenma talk a lot about flowers in this chapter. I know that the amount of flowers and their meanings can be a bit confusing. I wish there was a way for me to note them within the chapter without making it break the flow of the text. 
> 
> Let me know if you'd rather have me add them within the chapter directly or if I should just keep them within the notes as earlier.

Kenma had been so busy with trying to subtly avoid Takuya and making it through practice without spewing out flowers all over everyone around him, that he barely noticed that their training camp with the other teams from Tokyo (plus Karasuno) was going to take place soon. Had Shouyou not texted him he surely would have forgotten completely. 

From: Shouyou  
To: Kenma  
Message: Hey Kenma! Im brining that game tmrw

From: Kenma  
To: Shouyou  
Message: What game?

From: Shouyou  
To: Kenma  
Message: the one u borrwed me

Shouyou’s texting style was atrocious. He didn’t finish his sentences and he didn’t use proper spelling or punctuation. The only other person that Kenma knew who texted like that was Bokuto. Somehow it was less annoying when Shouyou did it. Not that he texted the Fukuroudani captain that much. 

From: Kenma  
To: Shouyou  
Message: Sure. Did you finish it?

From: Shouyou  
To: Kenma  
Message: Nah stck @ finl wrld

From: Kenma  
To: Shouyou  
Message: Want me to help you out?

From: Shouyou  
To: Kenma  
Message: could u?!!!!

From: Kenma  
To: Shouyou  
Message: Sure.

Kenma felt a little calmer after texting with Shouyou. He hadn’t even realized how uptight he had been. The past two weeks had been stressful and the stems of the flowers frequently got stuck in his throat and he almost threw up on several occasions when trying to cough them out of his lungs. Eating was a little more difficult, but at least he could still keep up at practice. Thank his lucky stars. And he could still keep normal, but somewhat stilted conversations with Kuroo to and from school. 

The most worrying thing was that there was no longer only the pale blue petals of the forget-me-nots whenever he peered down into the toilet bowl. The dark geranium petals floated in there too. The purplish black petals made him feel dread. But he couldn't lie. The flowers didn’t lie about what he was feeling. It all felt so hopeless. 

At least there were no roses. 

***  
As usual, the training camp was a loud and exhausting affair. At least Kuroo was busy with his “best bro” Bokuto to notice that Kenma went to sleep earlier than strictly normal. If Yaku noticed, he didn’t comment. Kenma was grateful. 

He did however spend time with Shouyou as much as possible. They played games and Shouyou chatted endlessly about his team and about Kageyama and his sister Natsu. Kenma found it relaxing. Shouyou never expected him to talk much in return and was content with just having someone listening. Kenma was not a conversationalist and only offered short comments when he deemed it appropriate. He even offered up a genuine laugh as Shouyou recounted the story of how him and his sister accidentally turned the neighbours dogs fur pink. 

When was the last time he felt this light? All this Hanahaki matter made him worried and depressed. Before he knew it a tiny forget-me-not left his mouth. He felt cold panic grip him and hoped that Shouyou was absentminded enough to not notice it. He tried to brush the flower and the tiny stray petals off his jersey pants and under his sheets they were sitting on. Of course the younger middle blocker noticed.

“Did you just cough up flowers?”

“.... uhm.”

“It’s Kuroo, right?”

“What.”

“The flowers. They are for Kuroo, right?” Shouyou looked so focused at that moment. Kenma couldn’t lie to him. He nodded dumbly.

“I can’t tell him though. So you have to promise me not to tell him.” Kenma stared at his handheld while he told Shouyou this. He couldn’t have anyone babbling about this before he managed to work it all out. 

“I promise!” Shouyou answered quickly. “You should tell him though. I had it too. A few months back.”

Kenma lifted his gaze to Shouyou so quickly he almost got whiplash.

“What?”

Shouyou looked a bit embarrassed and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. 

“It was completely unnecessary. I told him and he asked me out without a second thought. So I don’t have it anymore.”

Kenma stared at him. 

“Who…?”

“Oh, ehm…” Shouyou blushed. “Tobio. It’s been… uhm… exactly a month now actually. Shit, I have to remember to give him the gift I got him.”

Kenma couldn’t believe it. Shouyou was so gutsy. He would never dare to just march over to Kuroo and tell him how he felt. 

“It’s worse for Yamaguchi. He’s been stuck at stage 3 for years pretty much. I don’t know how he keeps it at bay. I mean, it’s not supposed to be stuck at a stage - but apparently that happens a lot nowadays.”

“It stuck?”

“Yeah.”

“That can happen?”

“Mm, he told me that it’s not as rare as one think. The flowers don’t disappear on their own of course, but it doesn’t kill you. It just continues to be really uncomfortable.”

Kenma felt a surge of hope in his chest at this. Maybe there was a way for him to live with this. He made a mental note to ask Yamaguchi about it later. He had never really talked to the guy before, but he seemed nice. 

“What flowers are these anyway?” Shouyou picked up the flower.

“Forget-me-nots. I have dark geraniums too. I don’t like them very much. These are fine though.”

“Well, they have a sweet meaning. Don’t forget about me.”

“Makes me sound so desperate.”

“They also mean true love.” Shouyou shrugged. “It’s sweet. I had roses. Yellow and orange. And sunflowers. The roses were a pain, but sunflowers. They’re so big, you know! I was terrified. I really didn’t feel like being choked by sunflowers… So I told him. Totally worth it though.” Shouyou carefully held the tiny pale blue flower in his hand, like it was something precious. He smiled softly. 

“It’s scary.” Kenma mumbled quietly. 

“Yeah. I know.” His friend answered and brushed the flower out of his hand. Kenma watched it fall sadly. He wondered what kind of flowers Kuroo would have for him. Maybe bluebells? Or red peonies. Kenma secretly wished for red and white roses. He wouldn’t dare to think of primrose, that would be preposterous. 

He dreamt of pink carnations and Kuroo that night. The irony of the matching message of _I will never forget you_ to his own forget-me-nots did not escape him. Kenma felt like crying when he woke up the morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower meanings -
> 
> marigold: despair, grief
> 
> forget-me-nots: forget me not, true love  
> geranium, dark: melancholy
> 
> rose, orange: passion, enthusiasm  
> rose, yellow: forgive & forget, jealousy, infidelity, happiness, affection, joy  
> sunflower, dwarf: admiration, gratitude  
> sunflower, tall: pride, appreciation
> 
> bluebells: constancy  
> peonies, red: devotion  
> primrose: I can't live without you  
> rose, red: love  
> rose, white: I am worthy of you  
> rose, white and red (together): unity  
> carnation, pink: I will never forget you

**Author's Note:**

> Flower meanings 
> 
> forget-me-nots: forget me not, true love  
> marigold: despair, grief
> 
> (probably more to come)
> 
> The flower meanings are taken from languageofflowers.com. There are probably other meanings to the same flowers out there, these are just the ones I used for my work. :)


End file.
